Succession
by chimingofthebells
Summary: Merlin's son accidentally overhears a conversation between Merlin and the King, where he learns that the king has some rather surprising plans for him.


**Hello! Quick note: this story takes place in the same universe as my recent fic "Springtime brings both mud and magic," only this story is later in time. Enjoy!**

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Henry hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He had been raised in the court, after all, and knew how to be respectful. He had every intention of making his presence known, explaining that he was simply hiding from his little cousin in their game of hide-and-seek, and leaving. In fact, he was just about to do that when the sound of his own name made him pause behind the window curtains.

"...Henry's showing some great skill in swordsmanship," He heard the King say, "I never thought any son of yours could be called coordinated!"

"At least he's not pig-headed like any son of yours would be," Henry's father teased.

"I remind you that my daughters are ladies, Merlin, and any insult to my children will result in the stocks, Court Sorcerer or no."

There was only a chuckle in response. Henry peered out from behind the curtains to see his father, draped in his usual royal blue cloak, pouring two goblets of wine and grinning.

"I never said anything about your daughters. At least they've got Gwen to look up to."

King Arthur scoffed and accepted the goblet Henry's father handed to him.

"It's a good thing Henry has me to guide him so hw doesn't have to rely on your incompetence."

"Says the man who tripped up the stairs on the way here."

"That was your fault!"

"Prove it."

Henry stifled a laugh at the scowl on the King's face. As the King and Henry's father sat down, Henry thought now would be a good time to show himself and leave before they got into a serious discussion. Yet again he paused as his name was mentioned a second time.

"As I was saying," The King said, "Henry is coming along in his training. He really is very skilled, despite having your genetics, and I think one day he'll make you very proud."

Satisfaction flared in Henry's chest at the King's words, and even more so at the pride with which his father replied.

"Thank you, sire. More than he already does, you mean."

"Of course," the King said. "He's almost as good as I was when I was his age."

"I'll be sure to tell him you said that."

"Good."

The King swirled his goblet, gripping it with both hands, and suddenly Henry wondered if he had anything more to say.

"I don't have a son," King Arthur said suddenly, "But it's been a great joy having Henry at court these years."

Henry's father rose his eyebrows. "I...didn't realize you felt that close to him."

"I love my daughters," The King said quickly, "Never think that they mean less to me. I would lay down my life for any of them, you know that."

"Of course I do," Said Henry's father, surprise and suspicion evident in his tone. "I never said you didn't."

"Good," said the King, "But since I have no sons, I like to think your son is the closest thing I've got."

His father was silent, and Henry's breath was short. He's been close to the King his entire life, the son of the King's dearest friend. When it was clear that he possessed none of the magical power of his father, Henry had started spending more and more time with the sons of the King's knights, hoping one day to become one himself. He knew the King favored him, but he never thought that the connection was so dear.

"He certainly gets along with your daughters well enough," Henry's father said carefully, as though waiting for some grander statement yet to come.

"I don't know how I would manage them all without him," The King said, "Gwen gets tired looking after them all, especially the youngest. It's a blessing Lunete adores Henry so, she doesn't listen to anyone but him."

His father laughed at that. "You'd better keep your eye on that one, sire, or she'll soon have the whole castle wrapped around her finger."

"You say that as if she doesn't already," The King sighed.

There was a brief pause as the King and Henry's father both took drinks from their goblets. The King was again looking into the depths of his wine as though about to say something delicate. Henry's father watched him carefully, but kept his mouth shut.

"I have not yet named an heir," The King said suddenly.

Henry's father stilled in the middle of taking a drink, and he lowered his arm slowly before he responded.

"No," He replied, and said nothing else.

"I won't be alive forever," The King went on, "There's rumors that the Saxons are on the move again, and may be planning an attack. Should there be war, I'll need someone to succeed me if all does not go well."

"Yes you will," Henry's father said. There was another beat of silence where the King avoided Henry's father's gaze, turning his goblet round and round in his hands.

"If I don't name an heir soon, I have distant cousins who will be wanting my crown, but I haven't seen these men since I was a child. I have no wish for Camelot to fall into the hands of one I do not trust."

"Of course."

"Henry is coming of age soon, is he not?"

The question was so sudden that both Henry and his father startled where they were. Henry was surprised that neither had noticed the violent jerk of the curtains, but he supposed both were so focused themselves that they were blind to their surroundings. He continued to listen, heart pounding.

"The summer after next, sire," His father answered. "Arthur, are you suggesting my son as a candidate for-"

"Just hear me out," The King said, setting his goblet on the table so he could lean in towards his advisor. His voice dropped low, so that Henry had to strain over the pounding of his heart to hear.

"Henry has proved himself to be a skilled warrior. Since he was a child I myself have been teaching him the ways of the sword. He cares for the people of Camelot, and as your son he's been exposed to the politics and ways of the court. The people would be far more willing to accept him as king after me."

"But he isn't noble!" Henry's father retorted, "Even for you, Arthur, that's a bit of a stretch! Leon's son is closer to the throne than Henry is! I'm the Court Sorcerer, but in the eyes of the people my blood is no more noble than theirs."

"You are noble," The King insisted, "You became noble when I made it so. Your father spent some time at court, so it's not so untrue."

"Henry hasn't been trained for this," His father hissed, "Christ, I thought you were going to tell me you wanted to make him a knight! Not the king!"

"There's still plenty of time to teach him kingship," The King said, "He can start straight away, and once he comes of age I can decide if he's ready to be named heir. And there will still be time after that."

"How-"

"He's already learned in the ways of the court," The King went on, "Unofficially he's been training for this since the day he was born. I had no children of my own at the time, so naturally I passed my knowledge on to him. And when Igraine was born I kept going. He's always been dear to me, Merlin, if not as a son then as a nephew at least. He's Prince of Camelot in all but title already."

His father was gaping, an expression probably identical to the one Henry wore himself. His game of hide-and-seek quite forgotten, he leaned strained to listen to his father's reply. Him, King?

"How-" His father stammered, "I don't see how you mean to do this. He has no blood claim to the throne."

"When he is of age, he and Igraine will marry," The King said, "That will give Henry a direct connection."

"You would force them to marry for the sake of your throne!"

"For the sake of Camelot!" The King replied, "I don't think it would be hardship for either of them. They're good friends, only a few years apart in age. To be quite honest I think they would be happy, going by the way they're always giggling together. They might even be courting already."

"Igraine is young yet."

"My mother was young when she married my father," The King reasoned. "Henry and Igraine are good friends if nothing else. I won't force them to marry if they truly don't want it, that would be hypocritical of me considering my marriage with Guinevere. But once it's explained to them I believe it would work."

Henry willed the redness in his face to go down. Surely his father and the King could sense the embarrassment and shock rolling off him in waves? Igraine was a dear friend of his but she would only be sixteen by the time Henry came of age. Of course, many girls became wives as young as thirteen, mothers at fourteen. But would the King wish this for his own daughter?

"I wouldn't do it if I didn't think Henry and Igraine would be a good fit," the King went on. "Merlin, listen to me. The Saxons are becoming more active and I can't trust my cousins. I have no way of knowing how they will keep the kingdom once I'm gone, and I have more reason to trust Henry. I believe he would make a good sovereign. If we begin to train him straight away I believe he would succeed."

Henry held his breath as he waited for his father to reply. The seconds ticked past, until finally he said,

"What if Henry doesn't consent to this?"

"Do you think he would refuse?"

"I think he would be overwhelmed with the prospect," his father said slowly, "but...I suppose, if trained properly, he would warm to the idea."

"You agree he would make a good king?"

His father sighed. "Avalon help me, but yes, I do."

"Then it is settled," the King said, a hint of relief in his voice, "Tonight we will speak with him. Bring Henry to my chambers tonight after supper."

With that, there was a scraping of chairs and footsteps and the closing of the door, and soon Henry was alone in the king's chambers.

His mind was reeling. King Arthur wanted to name him his heir- Henry, son of Merlin and Freya, the king! He had been called "Prince" a few times in his life, in a mocking voice as his twin Niniane teased him for how he followed the King all day. But for it to be true, for him to actually be named Crown Prince and heir to the throne was almost inconceivable. Perhaps it was a joke, and after the discussion after supper tonight his father and the king would laugh at his gobsmacked expression and say it was all an elaborate prank that Niniane somehow convinced them to participate in.

"Henry!" A voice suddenly called from the corridor, "Heeeenry!"

"I'm here, Lunete!" Henry yelled, once he had collected himself. The door flew open and in tumbled a small girl of six.

"These are mother and father's chambers!" she said, pointing at Henry, "You're not supposed to be in here!"

"That's what makes it such a great hiding place," Henry grinned.

"But that's not fair!" Lunete pouted, "I've been looking all over for you!"

"But you did find me!" Henry pointed out. Lunete did not look impressed.

"Come on," he said, holding out his hand to her, "You're right, we shouldn't be in here. Let's go to the kitchens and see if cook has any sweetbreads left."

Lunete's little face brightened, and she took Henry's hand eagerly and dragged him down the hall.

As they made their way through the castle, Henry caught sight of his father and the King at the end of the corridor. They both looked up and smiled when they saw Henry and Lunete. Henry did his best to look as though he was ignorant of the conversation they had just had about him.

"Hello father! Hello uncle Merlin!" Lunete called as they passed.

"Hello, darling," the King replied, while Henry's father waved.

"Henry?"

"Yes, father?" Henry pulled on Lunete's hand to slow down.

"Make sure you're home on time for dinner tonight," his father said, watching him intently, "I have something important I'd like to discuss with you."

Henry swallowed and nodded. "Of course."

His father smiled. Something in his eyes made Henry wonder if he knew that Henry had heard the whole thing.


End file.
